


Divine Providence

by professorplum221



Category: Warhammer 40.000, Warhammer 40k (Novels) - Various Authors
Genre: F/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:00:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29165355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professorplum221/pseuds/professorplum221
Summary: A Living Saint makes the most of his limited time on the material plane.
Relationships: Ciaphas Cain/Amberley Vail
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Divine Providence

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Sinner And A Saint](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25923949) by [Attalander](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attalander/pseuds/Attalander). 



> This is meant to take place directly after the events of the "inspired by" work linked above, so make sure you read that (and the one before it in Attalander's series too) first! It's really good!

"You're certain they'll be alright?" Amberley asked as she looked down at the two unconscious men who had almost lost their lives in the line of duty to the Inquisition, both now resting in the well-cushioned beds of a nondescript hotel room.

"Perfectly," the impossible vision of her resurrected lover replied, flexing the wings he had used to fly her compatriots to safety under the cover of darkness. "They might be a bit confused when they wake up tomorrow, but they'll recover."

"Thank you for taking care of them," she said, turning her head to look up at the unlikely Saint beside her. It was a strange understatement, considering the multitude of other things she also wanted to thank him for, but it was the easiest one to vocalize for the time being.

"Least I could do. You have the adjoining room as well, right?" he asked.

"Yes."

He flung the door open, gesturing for her to pass through it first with an exaggerated flourish. She turned to face him as he closed and locked it behind them, and found that her hands were shaking with an entirely different kind of nervousness than they had been earlier. 

"Well," he said, inclining his head toward the bed, "we still have a bit of time. Shall we?"

Amberley felt a rush of excitement in her chest that was soon tempered by a reminder of the physical toll the decades since Cain's death had taken on her. She hesitated, anticipating how he might react to countless changes her body had undergone in the intervening time, unable to avoid comparing herself to the seeming perfection of the form he'd been gifted with on his return.

"Ciaphas, I'm much older than I was last time you saw me. Juvenat treatments can only do so much. You might have been restored to the body you had in your prime, but I—"

He took a step toward her, an expression of disbelief crossing his preternaturally youthful features. "Amberley, you look as beautiful as you did the night we first met. Even more so."

"That's one of your trademark complete lies if I've ever heard one," she argued, despite the involuntary smile that sprung up on her flushed face.

"On the contrary, it's one of the few entirely truthful statements I've ever made."

And the way he kissed her after that was more than enough to make her believe it.

"So it's really still possible and . . . permissible?" she asked, breathless, her hands on her chest. "I mean, with you being a Saint and all."

He smiled. "Everything's still in working order—at least the last time I checked—so I have to assume the Emperor doesn't mind. My only concern is that these ridiculous wings might get in the way a bit."

"I'll have to thank the Emperor later," she responded with a sigh of relief.

"I'll see about passing the message on."

His lips were already on hers the instant he finished the sentence. She flung her arms around his neck, leaning almost all of her weight against him in her eagerness to make up for so much lost time. He embraced her tightly, reacquainting himself with the curves of her waist and back.

Then she laughed when she encountered a snag in trying to slide his greatcoat off his shoulders. "You're right—I'm not sure how to get this off you."

"Ah, right. The wings. Give me a moment." He raised a hand, his lips curling into a slight frown of concentration. Then Amberley gasped to find her hands suddenly empty of the heavy fabric that had filled them, and Cain's chest completely bare in front of her.

His skin bore a few thin white scars, but not nearly as many as she had grown accustomed to seeing in his later years. She wondered if, given more time, she could have traced each of these early wounds to their origins and pinpointed the exact timeframe that the Emperor's will had deemed the most ideal for recreation of his physical form. Quite possibly she could have, with how well she had known his body.

"You can make your clothes disappear?" she asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

He chuckled. "I'm still figuring it out myself, but I do appear to have some control over the vestments with which I manifest, yes. Although I'll leave the rest of them to you."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her again, enveloping her in the warmth of so much comfort and familiarity that she could almost forget the strangeness of their situation. She felt over two hundred years younger—the strong and confident inquisitor she used to be, returning from a successful mission with him at her side, finding excuses for him to stay one more night before departing for his regiment. It had always felt like the easiest and most natural thing in the world for the two of them to tumble into whatever hotel bed was available at every opportunity; even centuries apart, and his death and resurrection, couldn't make that any less true. 

And if she'd had any lingering doubts about the reality of what she was experiencing, they dissolved the moment their bodies joined. No trick of the Warp could have so perfectly recreated the feeling she had ached for throughout all of their years apart—the way they had always seemed to fit together perfectly, as if the Emperor had made them for each other, in this as in all other aspects of the lives they had shared.

During that other lifetime, so long ago, their trysts had more often than not been rushed and frantic—stolen moments spent in fear of interruption, or adrenaline-filled nights following near-brushes with death. But now, even though their time together was more limited than ever, their movements were slow and deliberate, as if to savour every second they had.

When a gradually building wave of pleasure crashed over Amberley at last, she felt tears springing to her eyes again. Ciaphas brushed one away with a gentle caress of her cheek.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," she gasped. "I just—I don't want this to be over."

"Well, if that's the only problem," he said with a sly smile, "We'll just have to keep going."

He brought his hands to her hips, grasping them tightly to take her with him as he shifted into a slightly different position.

"How about like this?"

She nodded vigorously as she wiped the remaining tears from her eyes, almost laughing at the redundancy of his stopping to ask—as if he could have done anything that she wouldn't have welcomed and encouraged in that moment. And when he smiled and resumed his explorations of her body with renewed intensity, she let herself get lost in it, free of any stray thoughts about the future.

But even the stamina of a Saint isn't unlimited—let alone that of an old woman who's just endured a battle for her life. Eventually, they resigned themselves to lying still in the bed together, trembling hands still running lightly across each other's skin. She traced the contours of his face, committing every detail of the form he had appeared in to memory. He looked almost exactly the same as he had in some of their earliest years together, except that when the light hit his eyes, they seemed to be somehow flecked with gold. She wanted to stare into them forever, but each blink of her own eyes was starting to last a bit longer than the previous one as the exhaustion of the night's events caught up with her.

"You should rest, Amberley," he said, apparently noticing her struggle to stay awake. "You've had a long day."

"I don't want to," she protested, even as a yawn almost broke through her words. "Not if you'll be gone when I wake up."

He pulled her closer against the warmth of his chest. "I may no longer be materially present," he assured her, "but I promise you, I will never be gone."

And just like always, despite the lifelong liar that he claimed to be, he told the truth with her. She couldn't see him anymore when she opened her eyes again after the deep sleep she had so sorely needed, but she could have sworn she still felt his arms around her. The sensation dissipated after a while, but throughout the ensuing years, it would occasionally return. When she was faced with a difficult decision, or thrust into a life-threatening battle, or even a few times when she summoned the memory of his touch in a moment alone—she knew that he was there with her.

Perhaps one might argue that it was her own hope and belief in the man she loved that filled her with such conviction of his presence, rather than any real manifestation of his own power. But such skeptical thoughts barely ever occurred to Amberley Vail as she navigated the twilight of her life with the well-earned confidence that an Imperial Saint was watching over her personally.

After all, she trusted Ciaphas Cain completely.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading the cheesiest thing I've ever written, and I hope you enjoyed it! Also, it took a lot of self-restraint to give this a serious title and not call it something really silly like "Pounded by the Living Manifestation of the Emperor's Will."


End file.
